Femi Ayo-Tubosun: Break Out!

BREAK OUT!

Lukewarm days on a binge.
Work drags
like one corner of stale meat
jostled and abandoned
by common rats.
Prayers are gathering
and rotting away
in the closed quarters
of wasted hours.
From shuffling shadows
to a pink stained sunrise,
the sober nights
are clogged
with uncertainty.

—————–

MOODS OF INFINITY

There’s something poetic
about waiting.

Like hushed things
perched in the cloak of night,
waiting for revelation.

Like you,
waiting for light to attend the voices
that only sacred spaces have heard.

You carry a prophecy
in your chest.
+
‘I suffered for you!’
is what mother says
when you forget
that you’re supposed to be god.

At your feet, there are ashes.
Years that you lit & tossed away
because they were not good enough.

To grow-

You bury yourself in the graveyard
of unpleasant things.
You wait.
You converse with corpses.